Playing With Fire

CHAPTER XXVIII (28)

CHAPTER XXVIII
Solana

   Christian and I pulled away instantly, and I frowned when I spun my head to see Presley stomping down a narrow hallway, his face burning with fury. Christian stiffened next to me and carefully slid forward, just enough to hide me from Presley's glare.

   "Lana," Presley grounded out once he stopped a few feet from us. I tilted my head back, so I could look over Christian's shoulder. Mera, who'd been sitting on the plastic chair on my left, stood up and glanced between us in obvious surprise.

   "Why the fuck did you invite Kane here?" Presley continued, and if his face wasn't as tan as it was, I imagined it being red from rage. "Do you really think Jon wants him here? Especially if he's a goddamn fucking suspect?"

   Even though I couldn't see his face, the temperature in the waiting room dropped as Christian slowly pushed his shoulders back. "What is that supposed to mean?" He challenged, his voice tipped in frost. "Are you accusing me of causing Jon's crash?"

   Presley twisted his head, entirely focusing on Christian now. His nose flared as he sneered, taking a warning step closer. "His brakes were cut. How do you think that happened?" He accused before scoffing a dry laugh. "Maybe it could be from the captain of the team we're going to crush next Saturday?"

   This time, it was Christian's turn to snort. "For me to do that, it would mean that I think you have a chance of beating us. You don't." I inhaled slowly, surprised by how arrogant and chilling he sounded at the same time. "You should work on those ideas of yours, because I wasn't the one who touched him."

   Presley definitely didn't seem to like that answer. "Then what do you suggest, Kane?"

   "Maybe stop annoying the shit out of me, and figure it out yourself."

   "I know it was you, you fu—"

   "Enough." I spoke sharply, the first time since I'd learned of Jon's accident.

   Christian sucked a breath while I stepped away from his body's protection, but I kept my eyes narrowed on Presley, who was straightening his stance. I crossed my arms and tilted my chin up before speaking coldly, "You have no evidence besides the fact he's a Tiger. Jon's in the hospital, Pres," my voice wavered, and I felt my face losing its resolve, just as Christian slid behind me, silently reassuring me before I continued, "Can't we deal with the semantics later? I want to see him."

   For a moment, he didn't say anything, but some of his anger drifted from his expression the longer he stared at me. But then he glanced back up, over my head where he could see Christian standing. His face hardened again. "I'll bring you to him. Once he goes."

   "Are you ser—"

   "It's okay, Lonnie," Christian murmured behind me, just as his hand curled around my waist, almost possessively before he tugged me to his chest. I didn't need to look at him to know he was staring soberly at Presley—who seemed ready to cross the distance between them and throw the first fist.

   Keeping my eyes on Presley, mostly to make sure he wouldn't come closer, I tilted my head in the direction I knew Mera was standing in. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't let him go to Jon until I come back."

   "Got it," I heard her say before she steeled her tone. "Hear that, Pres? You're sitting next to me."

   His face clouded in irritation before he grumbled, "Fun."